


Do you got room for one more troubled soul?

by ultraviolence



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Copious Amounts Of Swearing, F/M, Gen, Modern Era, Swearing, modern gods, one brotp to rule them all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3446741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultraviolence/pseuds/ultraviolence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's guys' night out with Hades and Thanatos. Hijinks and copious amount of swearing ensues. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do you got room for one more troubled soul?

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt was to write anything between these two, because apparently there wasn't enough of this brotp out there in the world. Thus, I nobly endeavoured to fix that. Comments / critiques / suggestions / prompts are welcome! (and coming up next: Apollo / Artemis) xx

“You really should stop smoking so much.” A disgusted Hades said, shaking his head slightly.

“Not even your daughter says that to me.” Thanatos countered with the usual deadpan, not even blinking as he took another long drag.

“Are you trying to bait me into another bet? Because I’m not entering another bet with you.” The former and somewhat-still King of the Underworld said in turn, after a certain amount of deliberate consideration, while taking a swig at his beer. They were meeting at the bar they usually frequent, minus Hypnos (he always disappeared and reappeared whenever he wanted to, as with Morpheus, and even Hades found that to be quite unsettling. Only his brother seemed to know his whereabouts 24/7), and he was hoping that none of the other gods would crash their pity party tonight (he loathed to call it a guys’ night out, though a pity party is pushing it). It happened once, with Poseidon, and it ended up with copious amounts of sass from Hades’ part and so much loathing from both of them, it could have knocked the sun right out from the sky. He doesn’t hate his _second_ little brother _that_ much, per se – not as much as his _youngest_ brother, at least – but he’s definitely becoming more and more… _unbearable_ lately. (As in, what’s up with all the slang? Hades can understand the need to keep up with the times, but using teenage slang unironically while looking like a buff, tan middle-aged man…that’s not cool, bro.)

“Because I always won. You’re a fucking sore loser.” His once-right hand man continued, as he added more smoke to the bar’s already ample collection of cigarette smoke. 

“And you’re a fucking cheating bastard.” Hades responded. “I won that one time though, about Alcestis.”

“I thought that we didn’t go there.” That successfully earned him a baleful glare from the other god, and he disguised his laugh as a cough. That was a sore matter to his friend, but that’s what they do: constantly bringing up old wounds in the spirit of good, old-fashioned ribbing. If it were someone else who brought that up, Thanatos would probably punch them in the face, and that’s saying something, because he’s not the type that goes around and punches people often. That honour is specially reserved for Ares and his gang. (There was a day when he was all punches and jagged edges, spiteful thing he was, and none of the chagrined resignation he is today, but that time was long gone. Hades was thankful, since he was dating his eldest daughter now, and he chalked it up as a rebellious phase.)

“You know what the kids say today,” Taking Hades’ silence as acquiescence, Death continued. “It’s like Batman’s parents: you don’t go there.”

“Well, you did call me a sore loser,” The King of the Underworld answered, taking another swig. “Then all’s _fair_.” 

“Now you sound like Melinoe,” He gave Hades a nasty glare. “Is there a conspiracy between the lot of you? Some sort of conspiracy to give me hell?”

“Thanatos, you pathetic, paranoid fuck,” His own vehemence surprised him, but that’s how it goes for them. “You’re already in hell. No one’s trying to bring you down except for yourself.”

“Well, technically we’re not in _your_ place anymore, please get on with the times, you old fuck, but hell’s absolutely empty, and I’m staring at the head demon now.” He stubbed his cigarette deftly, as if he’d spent a lifetime stubbing cigarettes, and turned to the glass of beer he’d been nursing. 

“Is that what you’d say to your father-in-law? _Please_.” Hades shook his head again. He’s afraid that one day his head would just roll off to the floor from shaking it so much. He swear, instead of getting better with the times, they – the gods – just got _worse_ with the times. Thanatos was definitely classic textbook example, exhibit A (whereas exhibit B would probably be Dionysus, or Aphrodite). 

“And I’m not bringing myself down,” He resumed his not-yet drunk speech. “I’m _already_ rock bottom, thank you. It’s technically impossible to go further.”

“Well, you never know.” Hades glanced at him, not sure what to make of that. That definitely sounds like something Thanatos would say, but also something teenagers on the internet would say (his son introduced him to the internet, and although it’s “pretty awesome”, as the saying goes nowadays, it also has…pits deeper and blacker than Tartarus, and absolute ridiculousness). Some days he’s not sure if his lieutenant read too much angsty poetry, or was just _that_ self-depreciating. He wondered how Macaria puts up with that, and he pities her mentally (he also makes a mental note to call his daughter later and try to talk some sense into her). “Just stop, okay? Or should I say, you have nowhere to go now but up?”

He’s coming all the way here to talk about Persephone, but now he’s not so certain anymore. It seems like by the time the night ends, _he’s_ probably the one doing the reassuring. Hades sighed mentally. 

“Well, technically…” The other trailed off, lighting another cigarette. A certain amount of silence falls between them, and Hades took the time to observe his surroundings. They’re never in a hurry; they have all the time in the world, and they were both people-watchers. It’s something they have in common, strangely. And it’s something he’s been doing a lot more recently – you’d think that with the advent of the internet and a plethora of other things, there would be more things for a bored Lord of the Dead to do, but apparently it’s not the case. He falls asleep easily these days when reading books, much to his annoyance, and he’d rather loathed the monstrosity that is the internet. He doesn’t like the television, either.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Thanatos finally breaks the silence, blowing a smoke. “Is it about Persephone again?” That’s the question he’s been waiting for. He’s glad that his friend remembers (and that he probably wouldn’t be the one doing the reassuring, after all). He shuffled slightly in his chair. “Yes. Well, sort of. Well, yes.”

“That’s a fucking yes and no question, you moron. It’s easy. It’s not like I asked you the size of Antartica.”

“Yes,” Hades responded, letting out a sigh of annoyance and ordering another beer, “It’s a yes. It’s about her.”

“Well, don’t get your knickers in a twist, then.” He was tapping on the table, and Hades followed his gaze across the bar. He better not be looking at another girl, he thought, with a certain kind of irritation fathers felt when they’re going out with their son-in-law, sort of. It was nobody in particular, not a pretty girl, most definitely, and Hades allowed himself another sigh. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I am going out with your daughter and you bitch about her mother to me. Isn’t that droll?” As if to prove his point, Thanatos chuckled, darkly, looking back at him.

“Well, at least _I’m_ not going out with _your_ mother.” He regretted it before the words left his tongue. The dismal look his second-in-command shot him, followed by a gulp of beer speaks volumes. Nyx – the only parent Thanatos had left, if she can be considered that – had been a sore topic for a while now. And by a while, he meant at least a couple of decades.

“Then you’re going to be a literal motherfucker. And that makes you happy, isn’t it?” That look again. The look Hades knows so well (and despise). Thanatos, much like him, had a limited palette of expression, but _that look_ had been his defining look, especially in this day and age. It was a look that was part self-pity, part disgust, and part displeasure on his part, complete with a pout that would give runway models a run for their money.

“Have you ever considered signing up for America’s Next Top Model? Has my daughter ever planted that clever suggestion in your head? Because, you know, you could at least make millions with that pout.” If their relationship was more of a sober, normal, non-vitriolic kind (which only applies to mortals, unfortunately), Hades would have apologised for bringing Nyx into the table, but as it stands, he makes a bad joke at Thanatos’ expense and wait for a reaction. Also pretend that everything’s swell, because neither of them is especially good when it comes to dealing with pesky feelings. 

“Shut the fuck up.” The other hissed, downing the beer so fast it might have been water. “Shut the fuck up, you fucking retarded idiot, shut up, you don’t bring up my mother, ever, _okay_?” 

“Yeah, it was a low blow. Sorry.” Hades shrugged, unaffected by his friend’s sudden outburst. He was more than used to Thanatos’ occasional outbursts, especially since he’s an angry drunk. Quite unsurprisingly. Hades can remember several times when he had to call on what little godly power he still possessed to summon a garden variety zombie or two to break the bar fights that almost always ensues from the usage of _Thanatos_ and _drinking too much_ in the same sentence – not to mention the puke. Hades shuddered at the abysmal memory of the puke. God of gentle death his _ass_. He might not be the violence-is-the-answer kind of god when sober, but when he’s _not_ …he wanted to bang his head at the nearest hard surface every time he remembered that this was the kind of guy he gave permission to go cruising in his daughter’s pants. He might as well gave Ares Macaria’s hand in marriage.

Hypnos was probably the only person in the whole wide universe (aside from his daughter, though Hades doesn’t know that) who could defuse a drunk-and-hey-punk-wanna-fight Thanatos. Unfortunately, during the few times Hypnos actually can make it to get hammered with them and not pull his Houdini shit, he just fell dead asleep after several shots. Predictably. It was actually quite amusing, watching Thanatos picking fights left and right, while Hypnos talks some absurd crap Hades don’t quite understand in his sleep. Are they really twins? It was a surreal experience, much like seeing a Picasso painting with 3D glasses on. Not that he’d ever tried it.

“Anyway,” Thanatos breaks the silence again, snapping Hades out of his unpleasant reverie. “What’s up with mother-in-law dearest, oh great and gracious father-in-law? She texted me yesterday, asking me how am I doing.” It was Thanatos’ turn to shudder at the memory. “Worst experience I’ve ever had. And that’s saying something.”

“It’s the smileys, isn’t it?” Hades let out a long sigh. “What did you tell her?”

“I’m fine, the way normal people says they’re fine.” He deadpans. “Then she started to ask me random home improvement shit like what colour drapes I prefer…and if I leave the toilet seat _up_.”

“Oh good _gods_ ,” Hades moaned, wringing his hands desperately. “It’s not about marriage, isn’t it?”

“What…what do you mean by marriage?” Thanatos was genuinely flabbergasted, as proven by the fact that he even put his chain-smoking on pause. He stared at Hades expectantly, and the god in question wanted to open a hole in the ground and sent himself into the deepest pit of Tartarus. He’s not quite sure if he should mention that, at all, but the bro code…he’s not even sure why he use the word bro code _unironically_. 

“It’s, um, you know…” Hades faltered, tried to backtrack, got a glare that sent chills down his spine because it reminded him, rather uncomfortably, of Nyx herself. Night sure has passed her legendary glare along to several of her children, since he’d seen it on Nemesis, too, not to mention the Keres…who nowadays took the form of one deranged woman, but that’s another story. “You’ve been with Macaria for quite a while, and she thought…well, she thought…”

“Holy _shit_.” The un-smoked cigarette falls off Thanatos’ fingers. It took him a while to overcome the shock and pick it up. “You’re not serious, aren’t you?”

“You remembered the last time I tried telling a joke _deliberately_. It did not end well.” It was Hades’ turn to deadpan. He _wished_ he were joking, but sadly, no. His beloved wife had talked about it for at least two weeks now, and it drives him crazy (among other things), but he tried to endure it, as he always has. In every marriage, there is always the crazy one, and then there was the devoted one. Hades liked to think of himself as the latter.

“You _can’t_ be serious. Please tell me you aren’t serious. I’m having an out-of-body experience right now. I’m gonna _die_.” As if to prove his point, he buried his face on his hands melodramatically. Hades was sympathetic to his friend’s plight, but at the same time, he wanted to slap him.

“Thanatos, please.” It took quite an amount of self-control on Hades’ part not to roll his eyes, and then some more, in order not to get up and slap him. He can’t say that he loved the poor asshole, per se, but he’s the closest thing to a friend he had since the longest while (sadly, he thought to himself). Hades _still_ wanted to slap him sometimes, though. “You’re immortal. Don’t get me started on the whole you are Death part.”

“Forget it.” He raised his head abruptly, shocking Hades. “I don’t want to hear about it. I’ll just pretend that I don’t know, and the next time she texted me again, I’m going to say that I’ve moved to Alaska and has taken quite a liking on polar bears, or some shit.” A pause. “The point is, is that why she’s driving you crazy? _Again_?”

“Well, amongst other things.” Hades winced at the memory of Persephone storming out after their argument. It was especially hard, because she shouted at him that it was the last straw, and that she’s moving out permanently, also he didn’t need to come after her or text her, please and thank you. He can’t remember what he’s doing after that. Probably drowning in a pool of self-pity, although he loathed admitting it. Only Thanatos would wear self-pity like a badge of honour. “There was something about me not calling her enough, or that I’m too self-absorbed in my own little world, and that I leave the toilet seat up.”  
Thanatos visibly shuddered. “The joys of marriage,” he said. “Why did you marry her again?”

“I keep forgetting to feed Cerberus or her pups too, according to her.” He shrugs. “And I marry her because I _love_ her. She’s _the_ love of my life.” He shook his head, remembering the happy memories they had. Of course, there are days like this, but there were also days when they were genuinely happy. At least, Hades liked to think so. 

“Says the guy who started out as a stalker.” Thanatos pointed out unabashedly, and Hades almost choked on his drink. “You know, I did suggest that if godly divorce was possible, we could always run away to Las Vegas…”

“And woke up being married to each other?” Hades scowled, getting what the kids on the internet nowadays would call ‘his shade game on’. “Not likely. I’d rather disembowel myself. Gave the same sensation as being married to you, when you think about it.”

“Well, I love you too, fuckface.”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t let your daughter hear you say that,” Thanatos grins. “It’s going to break her heart. She really loves me, and she can’t see why other people don’t share her sentiment, most of all her own father.”

This time, Hades really rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say. Just don’t disappoint her or break her heart.”


End file.
